


Painted Jezebel would smile and sing her lovely song

by Jess (Dark_Ithil)



Category: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: All mistakes are my own, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Homecoming, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I don't know how to find a Beta, I would if knew how, I'm Sorry, Kink Negotiation, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Britpicked, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 16:24:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18097904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Ithil/pseuds/Jess
Summary: Danny knows Nicholas isn't a girl, he doesn't want him to be a girl. He loves Nicholas just the way he is, really. And it's not about making him into somebody else, or about making him look like another person. But the lipstick lies heavy in Danny's palm, and his mind suddenly flashes him a picture of slowly, ever so slowly spreading the paint over Nicholas's lips.





	Painted Jezebel would smile and sing her lovely song

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Welly Wanging](https://archiveofourown.org/works/177394) by [big_twinkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/big_twinkie/pseuds/big_twinkie). 



> Inspired by [Welly Wanging](https://archiveofourown.org/works/177394) by big_twinkie in a way that I read it and sort of thought what would some kinky thoughts be from Danny's POV. If you haven't read it, do it, go, now. And I hope I can figure out the control panel here and add it properly.

He found it by accident.

Danny was helping Nicholas move into his newly prepared lovely little cottage. Well, when he said helping. Danny half suspected that him being there, and moving things into their rightful places in the cottage was a distraction from not being allowed on active duty. 

He was still convalecc... convaleth... recovering from the time his insides had an intimate encounter with some pieces of metal travelling at high speed towards Nicholas. 

Personally, Danny thought it was kinda cool — just like in the movies! — but lately he thought it was also a bloody pain in the arse. For him recovering meant he was not allowed into the station, and Nicholas, sticker to the rules that he was, the wanker, had adamantly insisted that until the doctors gave him the all clear Danny wasn't allowed to do, well, pretty much anything, really. 

Not that Nicholas needed a lot of help to move in. He didn't have a lot of things. It made Danny kinda sad that his friend hadn't accumulated much of the worldly possessions, as if his life was all in his job. Danny suspected it made Nicholas somewhat sad as well. He hoped Nicholas would stay here long enough to make it a home. He really, _really_ hoped Nicholas wouldn't want to leave Sandford. So, Danny made an effort to be extra nosy, loud, and if he was honest with himself, probably unhelpful.

Right now he placed shampoo and shower gel in the shower corner. For the second time. Only for Nicholas to take the bottles and place them on a shelf in the other corner of the bathroom. For the second time. Danny took them back to the shower corner. Why would anyone, even a neat freak like Nicholas, want to put the shower products not in the vicinity of the easy reach from within the actual shower, but instead at the other bloody side of the bloody huge bathroom, where he would need to remember to take them out before actually getting in the shower, or to forget all about it, until getting wet, and subsequently getting water all over the floor in a mad dash to get to the gel, whereupon he would slip on the wet floor and crack his head on a corner?! Mad, it was mad. So, it was just as well Danny was there to help Nicholas. Him being a city boy and suchlike, probably lived in a tiny apartment, with a cubicle of a shower where everything was within arm's reach, so he probably wasn't used to a problem like that. 

Nicholas just looked at him and sighed. It was the sort of sigh he usually reserved for the Andes, which Danny found a bit unfair. But he also smiled, the smile that was reserved mainly for Danny, and that smile always made Danny's heart give a little stutter. He preferred not to think about it, so he turned and tried to busy himself with something else.

That something else was a box full of medical supplies. Well, probably not a box, — a box meant it was made of hard, unbending material, and a lid, while this thing was made of thick fabric, and had a zipped top. But it didn't loose its shape, so it was something of a cross between a box and a bag. He would have to ask Nicholas for the proper word for the thing. Still, he unzipped the top and rummaged inside. 

It contained bottles with antiseptic, plasters, some bandages, assorted pills, and miscellaneous stuff usually found in medical kits. Danny started to take them out, he wanted to place them into sliding drawers, to spread them around in order to make the place look lived in. 

At the bottom he found a strange oblong thingy. He pulled it out.

"What's this?"

"What?" Nicholas turned to squint at the thing. He blinked, "Lipstick?"

Danny peered at the object, "Rally?" He hadn't held one in his hand from the time his mum died.

"Where did you get it?"

"In your medical box-bag-thingy."

Nicholas's brows furrowed as he moved to look inside the box-bag-thingy. He pulled out several packets of pills, and something that on closer inspection turned out to be some pads. Danny knew this because he saw them in a commercial on telly. 

"It must be Janine's," Nicholas mused, "I probably packed it by accident." Then he grimaced, "Shit, I sure hope the lipstick is not terribly expensive. For I don't think it would be appropriate for me to return it now, after all this time."

Danny looked at the thing. It was smooth, cool to the touch, dark and heavier than it looked. The edge from one end of the cylinder was cut to leave a surface that ended in a wicked looking tip. It reminded Danny slightly of a shark's nose. He opened it.

The lipstick slid out in an almost hypnotic manner. The colour was dark violet, almost purple.

"I kinda want to try it on," he blurted out.

Nicholas blinked at him, then shrugged his shoulders. "Well, since I wouldn't be returning it," he grimaced at the thought again, his conscience clearly eating at him for accidental unlawful possession of the object, "you might as well do whatever you want with it."

Danny looked at him curiously, "You don't think it's weird? A bloke putting on lipstick."

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders once more, "No? Janine actually never wore a lot of make-up, well, not lipstick anyway. She said it felt heavy and weird, so she used it only when occasion called for it. Ceremonial, sort of like some men wear ties."

Danny continued with his curious gaze.

Nicholas scratched under one ear, "I did have a course on gender culture history in uni. There are tribes where men, warriors, traditionally wore make-up. It's the Western civilization that condemns men for wearing bright clothes and make-up. And that too is a trend only in recent times. So, to answer your question, no, no judgement from me."

"You know, Nicholas, you need a surprising amount of thinking and reasoning to be non-judgemental," Danny pointed out, and cocking his head to one side added, "Just saying." 

Nicholas smiled at him, "Yes, while you do it by just being a nice person."

That smile, and the compliment made Danny's heart beat a bit faster, and heat rise to his face, so to hide that fact he turned to the mirror and fiddled with the lipstick. Some of the movies featured girls applying make-up, usually after a hot night with the main hero. It always looked easy, so he moved the lipstick over his lips. It wasn't easy. Danny sighed, yet another thing one needed a lot of practice to be good at. Oh well.

"How does it feel?" Nicholas sounded curious despite himself.

"Weird. Sort of like when you eat ice cream on a hot day, and it's melting fast, and getting all over your face. But the smell isn't right."

He turned to look at the other man.

"It's strange," Nicholas frowned, "when women wear it, it looks normal. But when men wear it, it looks weird."

"That's gender stereotyping, that is."

They laughed at each other.

  


It was then.

The incident was quickly forgotten in the hurly-burly that was life in a little town.

The doctors gave the all clear, and Danny was finally released from his medically caused exile from the station, and was allowed to do his job. And strangely enough, Sandford had a lot of job to offer, what with NWA gone, and people being people everywhere, there was always something for a policeman-officer to do. It was even sometimes quite exciting.

Months went past, and Nicholas accumulated more in the ways of worldly possessions, mostly with Danny's help, who took it as his personal mission to make the cottage look as cosy as possible — somewhere one would like to spend more time in, and not to move out to, to take a completely random example, say London. 

And Nicholas did indeed look like he enjoyed stayng in Sandford, and Danny thanked his lucky stars. 

And maybe, just maybe if Danny was lucky indeed... But no, no he shouldn't think that way, he shouldn't be that greedy and wish for more... Besides, what he wished for was probably absolutely impossible. Moreover, Danny was afraid that if he thought about it long enough, somehow he would give himself away, and then Nicholas would truly leave, and where would Danny be then? Nothing was worth such a risk.

But then, after they celebrated his birthday at the pub — and had it really been only a year? Everyone was apparently very happy Danny managed to survive another turn of the Earth around the Sun, so glad in fact that they needed to escort the Andes back to their respective homes on account of being too drunk to walk. 

Danny himself was not drunk, he had stopped drinking a lot, partly because he felt more responsible now that he was made sergeant and all, partly because he was mortally afraid the booze would give him courage, or stupidity, to lose his inhibitions and blurt his secret to Nicholas. And Nicholas, never a heavy drinker himself, was sticking mostly to cranberry juice. But he sat in a corner with a content expression and smiled occasionally at Danny.

And afterwards, after the pub, they were walking through a pleasantly warm night, getting closer and closer to his place, Danny's heart was pounding, and he was busy practicing how to say well-this-is-me in his mind, such a little phrase, but how to utter it without stuttering, or worse?

... But then Nicholas stopped near Danny's place, smiled at him and said that he was really, really glad Danny was alive and well, and maybe Danny would see to it to continue being alive and well for many years to come, and that would make Nicholas very happy.

Danny could only laugh in response, his heart beating like crazy.

And somehow, somehow, they drifted closer and...

What do you know, thought Danny hazily, as warm lips pressed to his own and as hands circled around his neck, maybe it wasn't so absolutely impossible after all. 

And then he thought of nothing at all. The night was warm, and it was happy.

  


Strangely enough nobody said anything to them at work in the days that followed. It wasn't as though they were discreet, what with all the glances, sighs, and an occasional goofy grin. But nothing unprofessional, not while on duty, Danny made a promise to behave. He was also asked to stop _Nicholas_ from misbehaving. He could only stare in astonishment at the other man. In reply Chief Inspector Nicholas Angel, Sandford Police Service, informed him, quite calmly, that he was merely human and as such some temptations could prove to be too great to resist, and he didn't understand why Danny was so surprised. So Danny promised to stop any unprofessional behaviour and waited impatiently for the time they were off their shift and somewhere private, for the thought that Nicholas, of all people, could find him tempting and hard to resist made his brain sizzle. Still, there wasn't so much as a teasing remark addressed their way, not form the Andes, and not even a single knowing look from Doris. Danny found it utterly bizarre.

He confronted Nicholas with the question one evening after dinner at the cottage. Nicholas sort of fidgeted and admitted that everybody kind of thought they had been together for some time now. Danny wondered how he'd missed it, and Nicholas blushed and said there actually had been some teasing, but apparently he, that is Nicholas, was the sole recipient of it, and he bore it stoically and without comment, so it eventually ceased. 

Danny could only blink at him in astonishment and ask when was that. At which point Nicholas blushed some more — it was adorable, really — and said that the Andes lost interest for several months now, after getting no amusing enough reactions out of him. Danny laughed at the response, happy, his mind was repeating that bit about several months, so there was nothing left to do but pounce on Nicholas, to spread that happiness around. Life was really, really good.

  


Still, it was then.

And some more months went past, much like they did before, only now Danny was the happiest he ever remembered being in his life. And Nicholas was definitely home now, he wasn't even thinking about leaving Sandford, and Danny privately thought there were not enough stars at night to thank, but there you had it. They did their job, the village was healing its scares and slowly starting to prosper. But this time for real.

Danny was semi-permanently living in the cottage. It was fantastic. There were even movie nights, with actual movies. Although most of the endings were missed on account of them relocating to the other room, the one with a big bed. But Danny was not complaining, blimey he was so not complaining. Besides, such state only presented the opportunity to rewatch the movies. 

Anyways, as a resident of the cottage, he tried to do the chores around the place. If he didn't than Nicholas would try to do everything alone, and it simply wasn't right, no matter what Danny's personal views on acceptable levels of cleanness were. 

Thus, the chores brought Danny into the bathroom with the plan to leave it spotless. Or as close to spotless as he could manage, which was pretty damn close.

Armed with the plan, and with some rags and detergent he set to clean the walls, the mirror, the shelfs, the drawers. He opened the one that contained medical stuff. And there, on the shelf, lay the familiar dark cylinder.

Suddenly the plan was forgotten.

  


This is now.

Danny is standing in the bathroom, looking at his open hand, and at the lipstick lying there, his mind is filled with a strange notion. 

He opens the lid. The lipstick slides out, slowly, hypnotically.

Suggestively.

Danny knows Nicholas isn't a girl, he doesn't _want_ him to be a girl. He loves Nicholas just the way he is, really. And it's not about making him into somebody else, or about making him look like another person. But the lipstick lies heavy in Danny's palm, and his mind suddenly flashes him a picture of slowly, ever so slowly spreading the paint over Nicholas's lips.

Danny shivers, his breath is coming out quickly, as if he was running after a shoplifter. 

He considers his options. He is happy, and in love, and has enough of what he needs. Surely, he shouldn't be selfish and ask for more? ... But, then again, why not?

He knows Nicholas wouldn't mock him, or laugh at him. In fact, Nicholas was the first person to treat Danny as an adult. 

Funny that, really. But Danny prefers not to dwell on the matter, because when he does, eventually he has to face the fact that it was sort of his father's fault, in a way.

In the way that he took all the important decisions form everyone and put it in the hands of the NWA. To decide everything, for the greater good. And what was left was, well, a play. Let the good boys and girls play at being policemen and policewomen, while everything actually happened behind the scenes. But you play nice, and don't misstep, or you would have to buy sweeties as a punishment. You are not allowed out until you clean your room, young man. It's no wonder they were all a bit childish, and not just Danny.

Sometimes Danny really wishes his dad could have talked to him after his mum died. Maybe Danny would have helped him, and somehow none of the people would have ended up dead. Danny isn't afraid of responsibility, he has to shoulder it now, they all have to, for the past year. But Danny actually knida enjoys it, making difficult decisions, helping Nicholas, being good at what he does, or as good as he can be. But maybe he didn't look like someone who could do it, after his mum died. Or maybe his dad was afraid of Danny growing up, of loosing that kid Danny was when his mum was still alive. So, all in all it's best not to think about the matter.

So, Danny shakes his head from all the heavy musings.

He looks at the lipstick and thinks that after everything they've been through, after jumping through the air while firing two guns, after firing a gun while in high-speed pursuit, after firing in the air and going ahhh, after the explosion.... after surviving being shot at, a shot that was meant for Nicholas... after all that, talking about a fantasy is not actually that hard.

In the evening he cautiously approaches Nicholas as the other man is sitting on the sofa, reading. He still hasn't figured out how to start the conversation, so he hovers uncertainly nearby. Something about his expression must be off, for Nicholas puts down the book and turns to him, concern colouring his features. 

"Danny? Something's wrong?"

Danny bites his lip and shakes his head. But Nicholas starts to frown, so he hurries to dispel his worry. "No, not wrong... well, I hope not."

"Then what is it?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

And damn it, he should have thought better about how to phrase it, cause now Nicholas really looks worried. Oh well, nothing for it, so he hurries forward. "I wanted to talk about... you know... about a bedroom sort of thing... Intimate, like."

Well, at least that one gets rid of the worried look.

They stare at each other and Danny feels himself begin to blush. Nicholas blinks. Danny can't take it and looks down.

"Yes?" Nicholas's voice is low, rough, and Danny shivers, but he still can't make himself meet the other's eyes. 

But he soldiers on anyway,

"I sort of though of something we kinda might do."

Nicholas steps closer to Danny, "Go on."

And Danny would, if only he knew how.

After a while Nicholas — apparently years of questioning suspects make for a good practice to wheedle intriguing information out of a lover — asks softly, "You want us to do something specific?"

"Well, not exactly us, more sort of... you know," Danny squeezes his eyes and forces out in a breath, "...you."

Silence.

He risks opening his eyes and glancing at the other man. Nicholas is standing very close, his expression is keen, sort of like that time at the firing range, but not exactly.

"You want me to put on some fancy clothes?" he asks so softly it's almost a whisper.

And Danny is speechless. It isn't the request he came here to make, but now the thought has entered, his mind is short-circuiting, imagining Nicholas in tight leather pants, fingerless gloves reaching out to...

"Danny?"

He shudders. "Not exactly clothes. No." At least not now. Hopefully some other time. He doesn't say that aloud. Instead he holds out his hand, the lipstick on his palm for the other man to see.

Nicholas just blinks at it, looking slightly taken aback, and Danny rushes to explain. "It's not that I want to see you as a girl..." He stops and backpaddles, amending, "Not that being a girl is somehow a bad thing. Girls can be amazing. And people should stop saying it as if it's something not good..." He is nervous and the words pour out in a rush, he gets distracted by all the discussions they had about gender, and people rights. But Nicholas is still standing close and looking attentively, so Danny struggles to make sense, "What I mean is, well, it's not a gender thing... and I don't want to change you, you are amazing as you are... But what I would like to do is... is just..." he swallows and chokes out a whisper, "paint your lips."

They stare at each other for a moment. Then Nicholas nods, "Okay."

  


The undressing part is easy. Besides they've practiced it a lot of times.

The kissing part manages to calm him down a bit.

It's the part where Danny lifts his arm with the lipstick towards Nicholas's face that he notices his hand is shaking.

Nicholas just stands there, appearing quite calm, and looks at Danny. And Danny would really, really like to know what the other man is thinking about. He supposes he could ask and actually get an answer. But then his other hand cups Nicholas's chin, and Nicholas's breath hitches, eyes flutter closed, and it gives Danny enough courage to proceed.

And when he brings the lipstick to Nicholas's lips and starts to spread the paint across them... Well, all thoughts of worry flee from Danny's mind, his movements become smooth and steady.

He strokes, the paint spreading first over lower lip, then over upper lip. The colour is dark, almost purple. It glistens slightly in the low bedroom light.

Danny's thumb comes to swipe the corner of Nicholas's mouth, the pigment ended up there too, but the movement tugs at Nicholas's lower lip and Danny can only stare at the sight. But then Nicholas makes a sudden movement to bite at his thumb, his lips closing around the digit, and Danny moans, squeezing his eyes shut, overwhelmed with sensation.

They stand there close, their breath coming out in short puffs of air.

"Do you like it?" Nicholas asks quietly.

"Yes," just as quiet

"Tell me what you want."

Fuck. He knows, he must know. Why is he making Danny say it out loud?

But as he opens his eyes and looks at Nicholas's expression, he sees hunger burning there. And maybe, maybe wanting to hear it said out loud is also... a thing. And something he can do. He swallows. "I want you to suck me off."

Nicholas inhales sharply, once, and drops to his knees. He takes Danny into his mouth.

It is not about gender, or about power play. Danny doesn't really know what it _is_ about. Not that he has enough brainpower to think of it now.

But he sees a trail, a definite, visible trail, left in pigment after Nicholas's lips, as they rub and slide around him. And maybe he does understand what it is about.

His moans are loud. He doesn't really hear them.

His eyes keep wanting to close on their own accord, but Danny forces them open. He wants, he _needs_ to see everything, _everything_. Dark, purple lips. And he is sliding in and out of them, in and out. His palm is still clutching at Nicholas's chin, he moves a finger to touch the purple of the lips, hold it and tug at it gently as he slides deep, as those lips stretch around him. And above it there are Nicholas's eyes, looking dark and wild. His nostrils flare in time with his movements.

It is too much. Danny clutches at Nicholas's shoulder and at his head and shakes and shakes and shakes.

He slumps down, his legs no longer able to support him. He can't seem to catch his breath, but he manages to open his eyes, searching for the other man. Nicholas is sitting beside him, looking at him, eyes dark and breath erratic. He has a bit of pale liquid dripping down his chin, smeared around his mouth. Over the purple paint.

Danny groans and puts an arm over his face. The image will be forever etched into his memory, burning hot. It is so obscene, one of the most indecent things he has ever seen in his life. And yet, and yet...

He closes the distance between them, and kisses Nicholas, kisses him long and hard, plunges his tongue deep into Nicholas's throat, licks at his lips, at the paint there, he can taste himself on the other's lips. He palms and strokes Nicholas, he can hear his muffled moans, they make him feel heady, drunk on the sensation, and all the while he is still kissing him, he can't stop kissing him, until he shouts and shudders in his arms, and then slumps down, all breathless and stunned. Danny presses his own lips to his temple, to soft yellow hair there, and kisses once, twice, more times, until Nicholas stops trembling, until he settles down, his breath growing calm.

The traces of lipstick are mostly gone, possibly smeared all over both of them. Danny probably devoured some of it in the heat of the moment, the thought makes him shudder slightly. It should feel indecent. And yet Danny's heart is swelling, overwhelmed with joy, and giddiness, and love so strong it bursts out in quiet laughter. He gathers Nicholas tighter in his arms, nestling his head on his shoulder.

Nicholas smiles at him and reaches out a hand to brush at the corner of Danny's moth. His finger has purple paint on it. "I think I understand."

And Danny can only laugh some more in answer to that.

They really ought to gather themselves up from the floor. And they really, really need a shower, because everything is sticky. 

And at the cottage the shower was the kind of crazy shower where one needed to take the soap and shampoo from off a shelf at the other end of the bathroom before one actually was ready to take a shower. It was mad. But Danny was OK with it. For the most part he forgot to do it, naturally, and had Nicholas laugh in exasperated amusement every time he hollered for help, or ran out naked, water dripping off his arse, as he dashed across the bathroom for the blasted gel himself. Nicholas looked kinda happy in these moments, though he did roll his eyes a bit. And more often than not he ended up in the shower with Danny, which might have been what Danny intended all along, with all that hollering and suchlike. Because, honestly, what else a fella needed in life?

_\- Fin -_

**Author's Note:**

> It started as a sort of erotic kinky drabble. Then it evolved some plot, fluff, even a smidgeon of angst, more fluff, like cavity inducing fluff, and 4k+ words. What is my life? 
> 
> Also, whilst typing, I finally understood why some authors here wrote the Andes and not the Andies, and as a consequence I finally got the joke from the movie about talking with them as an uphill struggle. It was a terrible pun. Naturally I loved it, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get it.
> 
> Painted Jezebel — my version, don't trust it — is a legend of a woman who stood her ground and defended her culture till the bitter end, so naturally she is portrayed not too kindly ever since. But the story is the one thing that makes me look with respect at make-up, which I do not normally wear. 
> 
> Comments are love, for I am late for the appreciation of this movie, and all the lj communities are dead. So tell me something about it :)


End file.
